


Condolence and Conversation

by LadyWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale means well he is just oblivious, Crowley doesn't know why Aziraphale is so dumb sometimes, Gen, Hugging, Ineffable Idiots, TV Show tag, but he still loves the idiot angel anyway, friendship feels, post show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Crowley has no idea why Aziraphale is offering him condolences. And then he realizes that the angel just may be more of an idiot than he thought. Post Nonpocalypse, friendship feels
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	Condolence and Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for Tessseagull that I wrote pretty much write after she requested it, but am only posting now because of Whumptober lol XD Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is definitely TV show Verse since the scene mentioned didn't exist in the book.

It had been a quiet few weeks after Crowley and Aziraphale had averted the apocalypse and somehow made it out of their subsequent attempted executions alive. Crowley for one was glad, even if he did constantly look over his shoulder, waiting for either demons or angels to pop up. He couldn't help but fear it was only a matter of time before they figured out the con he and Aziraphale had pulled.

But as the weeks stretched into a month, Crowley decided it was time for life to go on. He hadn't seen Aziraphale for a while, the two of them busy with their own things, and really, thinking it best to maybe stay away for a little bit longer, but today, he didn't particularly have anything to do, so he thought he might pop over to the angel's book shop. He had a lovely bottle of wine that he had—er, acquired, and knew the angel would love it.

It was closing time at the bookshop and Aziraphale was in the process of glowering his last few customers out the door without purchases when Crowley arrived. He raised his eyebrows as a woman practically skittered past him from the shop and glanced up at the angel, holding up the bottle of wine.

"Oh, hello, Crowley. Ah, yes, that looks lovely!" Aziraphale said, catching sight of him. "Please come in—and flip that sign, would you?"

Crowley did as he was told, flipping the sign to CLOSED and heading into the back where he found a couple glasses.

Aziraphale joined him shortly, and sat in his favorite reading chair, accepting a glass from Crowley.

"How are you, my dear? I was just thinking of calling you myself."

"Oh, I've been fine," Crowley said, taking a cautious sip of the wine and judging it indeed good. Though, to be fair, if it hadn't been, he would have fixed that up right quick. "Still quiet out there."

"Mm, yes, it is, thankfully," Aziraphale said and tasted the wine himself.

Crowley looked around the shop. It was mostly the same. Even the same lumps on the sofa he was sitting on. Adam had done a good enough job, he supposed, same with his car.

They drank in companionable silence for a while, then they chatted about nothing in particular as the wine kept flowing and Crowley allowed himself to feel drunk. It was so much like old times that he began to finally feel himself relaxing for the first time in…he didn't know how long.

And then the angel somehow managed to effectively jar him out of his muzzy blanket of wellbeing.

Aziraphale had taken a sip of wine, and then his eyes widened as if he had suddenly remembered something. He leaned over and gripped Crowley's wrist to get his attention.

"Oh, by the way, my dear, I regret to say this is terribly awful of me, but I only remembered it again the other day. I hope you'll forgive the belatedness of this, but may I just say…I was so sorry to hear about your friend."

"Eh?" Crowley muttered, not understanding.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to offer my condolences, it's just…well…everything was happening at the same time, and I didn't have a lot of time to talk then, being discorporated and all…"

Crowley fought to make sense of anything the angel was saying. He didn't think he was _that _drunk. He floundered, straightening up and setting his cup aside, sobering up a little. "Angel, what the heaven are you going on about?"

Aziraphale looked a little put out, sitting back in his chair. "Why, Crowley, when we were on our way to stop the apocalypse and…and everything, and I was without my body, and I came to tell you what had happened, and asked you why you hadn't gone to Alpha Centauri, and you told me it was because you had lost your best friend."

Crowley blinked. "Huh…?" was all he could say, as Aziraphale's bumbled, slightly drunk, and words bounced through his sobering mind.

And then it hit him just what Aziraphale was getting at and Crowley was now completely sober when he wished he was as drunk as anything. He just stared at the angel who was looking at him with such confusion. The fact was the situation was almost comical, it _should_ be comical—was the angel having him on? Or was Aziraphale just really _that_ stupid?

"Hold on," Crowley said, leaning forward. "You actually thought…Angel, who did you think died?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "Well, I didn't know. I only know that before that when I'd called you, you said you were with an old friend and then I stepped into the summoning circle and…poof!"

Crowley winced, burying his face in his hands for a moment, something bubbling up inside of him that he let out as a strangled laugh because if he hadn't it likely would have been a sob, and Crowley wasn't about to let that happen.

"Crowley, whatever is the matter?"

"Aziraphale," Crowley croaked. "Are you really that dense?"

Aziraphale frowned, his brow furrowing. "I beg your pardon?"

"You idiot," Crowley hissed. "I was talking about _you!_ _You're_ my best friend, you stupid angel!"

Aziraphale looked both shocked and slightly offended. "But, Crowley, I wasn't dead!"

"Well_, I_ thought you were!" Crowley shouted, pushing up from the couch, unable to stay still another moment. He leaned against the door frame to the back room and lowered his head into his hands, clenching his fingers into his hair briefly before he spun back toward the angel. "I came here and the place was on fire. I thought…I thought the demons had come for you, that they'd _killed_ you, before I evaded them! Do you understand, angel?!" Aziraphale had gotten up, obviously sober now as well, and come to stand beside Crowley. The demon reached out and grabbed him by the front of his coat, shaking him furiously. "_You_ are my best friend, and I thought you were dead. _Really_ dead, Aziraphale! Not just discorporated. Gone for good!"

"My dear, I…"

Aziraphale stopped because Crowley had collapsed. He had never wanted to relive that day. The pure terror of being alone after six thousand years, of no longer having a constant companion, the only other being on this earth or any other who truly understood him. The thought of that one being to whom he could truly give the title 'friend' being gone for good… it had been too much. And now…Aziraphale hadn't even known Crowley was talking about him. Did the angel not see them as friends? Even after everything? Was he still ashamed to admit he was friends with a demon?

But he had seemed genuinely surprised. Perhaps it was more that Aziraphale didn't think that Crowley wanted to be considered friends with an angel.

Maybe they were both idiots.

His teeth were clenched against the emotions and his fists were still tight on Aziraphale's coat, but he bowed forward until his forehead rested on the angel's shoulder, unable to hold himself up anymore.

"Oh, come now, dear boy, it's all right," Aziraphale said and wrapped his arms around him in a careful embrace. "I'm right here."

Crowley's arms slumped limply to his sides as he let the angel hold him for a long moment.

When he finally sniffed and managed to pull himself together again they returned to their seats, and Crowley just wanted to get completely sloshed and forget everything.

But Aziraphale was leaning forward, a pained look on his face. "Crowley why didn't you tell me before?"

"Didn't wanna talk about it," Crowley muttered. "Didn't think I had to."

Aziraphale sighed. "I know, that was rather silly of me. I suppose I just never realized that, well, that _you_ considered me your best friend. I always considered you the same, of course, but didn't know you felt that way too."

Crowley snorted, surreptitiously rubbing a prickle from one eye. "That's 'cause you're an idiot."

Aziraphale smiled slightly. "I suppose I can't really deny that one, especially now."

Crowley grabbed the bottle of wine again. "You really shouldn't bother trying. Right now, though, let's get drunk again and forget this."

Aziraphale gave a small contended sigh. "That sounds good. But…let's not forget that we are friends, Crowley."

"Oh definitely," Crowley said, raising his glass. "The best."

Aziraphale smiled genuinely at the toast and they drank until they could barely sit upright, but the world was still turning, and they were both still alive, and that was really all that mattered.


End file.
